


I'm Right Here

by agoodwoman



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodwoman/pseuds/agoodwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two drabbles, maybe three about a breakdown</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What are you doing?” Mulder’s voice echoed in the car but Scully wasn’t listening.

She had it set to speakerphone as she raced down the highway. Nelson Marina was going to get away, slip into nothing and she had to catch him. She wasn’t expecting him to slam on the breaks and ram her car from the front.

She instinctively pressed her foot into the breaks and tried to swerve his vehicle. The chase was definitely afoot and it could result in her life.

It was a fluke or bad luck. Either one.

She saw him standing at a gas station he had been known to frequent to pick up his brown paper covered magazines and cigarettes. He was due to surface soon to pick out his next target and that’s why they were chasing him around Kansas. Yet the second they landed it was almost as if he knew she was there.

He saw them at a crime scene, loitering among the crowd and his eyes caught sight of her hair immediately. It was a beacon to a man obsessed with what he couldn’t have. His piano teacher was a red head, his prom date and his first victim. Subsequently, the last seven women had all been red heads. He wanted to make Special Agent Scully number eight. He wrote her a poem to state as much.

Scully swerved the wheel and she found her car stuck in the embankment.

“Mulder get here now!” she called.

He was already on his way.

She scrambled to the other side of the car to get out. Lucky for her she wore pants that day but her heels were abandoned in the drivers side.

She saw him approaching and she knew he would break the window with the crowbar in his hand.

Nelson Marina didn’t look like a regular serial killer. He has short black hair and shining blue eyes. He looked like a man you might allow to buy you a drink but not go home with. He wasn’t dirty or disheveled. He was the picture of button down and appeared non-threatening.

Scully made her way down the road, as fast as she could in her stocking feet and her gun in hand. She felt her adrenaline kick in and her stride pushed through the ache in her hip-flexor.

But he grabbed her anyway. He caught up to her with a strong arm around her middle and hauled her into the field where a broken wire on a fence awaited their entry. That was a fluke or bad luck too.

He pushed her into the tall grass and held her down. Her gun fired into the air and grazed his shoulder but he wouldn’t be swayed. His thin fingers ripped at her zipper and the nylons protecting her. Another gun shot and his eyes went wide above her. She got him.

The sirens rang out and she could hear her name being shouted from the road.

“Scully!”


	2. The Breakdown

She wasn’t the one usually breaking and faltering. She wasn’t the one who let her emotions rule her body. She was the one who calmed him down, who brought him back to life and centered him. So imagine his surprise when he had her sat on a traffic meridian and on the side of the road while she suffered through an anxiety attack.

“Keep your eyes on me, Scully,” he instructed her.

Her eyes were wild and she was looking at the flashing lights of the fire trucks, ambulance and police cruisers around them.

“Scully,” he said again but her eyes were foggy like she had already left him.

Her heart was pounding and her breath was coming in and out in ragged pants. Mulder could count on his hand the number of times he's seen her look defeated or on the verge of breaking down. This was almost a panic attack and Dana Scully didn't have those. She was an icy cool exterior with no time for that. But this was different. This wasn't a man trying to brutally rip out her heart or Donnie Pfaster in her home. She was ready for Donnie. No one prepared them for Nelson Marina.

“Dana!”

She focused her icy blue eyes onto his face and they nodded together.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said. His voice was thick like honey. If she hadn’t been breaking down he would be trying to kill a man who was on the verge of dying.

He pushed her hair behind her ear and saw the blood on her jacket. It wasn’t hers. It was the asshole who ran her off the road and tried to attack her. It belonged to the guy they had chased through Kansas who had a thing for red heads and sent them notes since their arrival. It belonged to the guy who pinned her down in a grassy field and tried to rip at her nylons.

What the fuck was Kersh thinking, sending them out here?

Mulder instructed her to breathe along with him. “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look at him.”

“Him” was Nelson Marina, the name of a man who had killed seven women and tried to make Scully number eight. Nelson Marina was being worked on by paramedics because it was their duty but if it was up to them, they would have allowed him to flat line.

“Eyes on me,” he repeated. He took her hands in his and noticed she was shaking. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Scully swallowed. “You’re here.”

“I’m not leaving,” he reassured her.

She reached out to the lapels of his trench coat and pulled him into her. She broke down in his embrace quietly in the lee of his car.

When they stood he adjusted his jacket to hide the tear stains on his light blue shirt and she buckled herself into the car to be taken to the hospital. Such was it was, as their duty, to ensure the man would be arrested if he made it.


End file.
